David Lewis Paget

The Winding Stair - Poem by David Lewis Paget

I took a room on the second floorOf a building lost in time, Nobody knew just when it was builtBy way of its weird design.It once had stood on an acreageOf woods, and lakes and sky, But now it stood in a fifth rate slumAnd the world had passed it by.

Its red-brick frontage streaked with soot, Its columns black with grime, The marble floor with ancient footWas scored, and past its prime, But any roof was a comfort thenFor my life had lost its way, And I couldn’t face the future then, Nor yet, the light of day.

The janitor was an ugly manAnd he had but one good eye, He’d only let to the down-and-outsAnd tramps that were passing by, He made the rules for the ancient placeAnd he said, ‘Just you beware, Don’t ever go to the back of the houseOr use the winding stair.’

He knew I’d agree to anythingFor I had nowhere to go, Since ever my wife had turned me outFor a butcher, name of Joe.The years we’d spent were meaninglessOnce she’d set her sights on him, So I left without a word or a prayerBut kept my feelings in.

Up above was another floorThat was empty all the time, The janitor said, ‘it’s not in use, It’s just too hard to climb.’And above that floor was another roomWith the windows painted black, And accessed by the winding stairI’d been warned about, out back.

It was lonely there on the second floorIt was quiet as the tomb, I got to wondering what was thereUpstairs in the topmost room, There were noises, scuffles and fumblings, At times in the early hours, But when I asked the janitor why, All that I got were glowers.

‘This house has plenty of secrets butIt keeps them to itself, As you’d be better to keep to yours, Rather than dig and delve, I trust that you’ll never get the urgeTo leave the second floor, If ever I catch you out, my friendI’ll see you out the door.’

His threats were making me curiousSo I listened, quite intent, At two or three in the morning whenSome noise was evident, I climbed one night to the floor aboveAnd I saw the winding stair, And what was coming and going sentA shock through my greying hair.

There were figures in shiny silver suitsCame in and out from the street, Carrying cats and rats and dogsLike specimens, all asleep, And a terrible growl from the topmost roomRang out when they opened the door, And sent a shiver like ice alongMy spine, from the upper floor.

And down the stairway creatures cameThat I’d only seen in books, Handed to strangers down belowWith a nod, or merely a look, They’d been extinct for a million yearsOr had in the books I’d read, But not a one of them lived or breathed, They seemed to be newly dead.

I got back down to my room againShivered, and closed the door, Sat in a quivering heap of dreadBut I knew that I wanted more, They must have come from a future timeAnd delved way into the past, Why would they want our cats and dogs, Had they lost their own, at last?

I went again on succeeding nightsThe traffic was still the same, For men of science and drunken girlsAnd still the strangers came, But then a bellow from in that roomAnd a crunching, crashing sound, With voices raised in the midnight gloom, The janitor came, and frowned.

‘You’ve seen too much, now you’ll have to stay, ’He growled, and pointed a gun, Prodded me up the winding stair‘Til we saw what was going on, The door to the topmost room was blockedBy an animal, tightly jammed, ‘My god, we’ll have to get out of here, This never was part of the plan.’

Two giant tusks blocked the winding stairAs I looked in its evil eye, Its head and shoulders had blocked the doorWith no way of getting by, It let out a giant trumpet blastOf pain, as I turned to run, This was no elephant, that I knew, But a giant Mastodon.

Then up above was a steady whineLike a jet that was winding up, ‘Don’t leave me here, ’ cried the janitor, ‘I have to get back, just stop! ’But the roof of the house was lifting upAnd the bricks were falling away, I caught a glimpse of a saucer shapeAs this thing took off that day.

The winding stair came crashing downWith nothing to stop its fall, I landed down in the basement, foundMyself by a Roman wall, The janitor, not so fortunateWas crushed by the falling beast, Killed by a thing, so long extinct, By a million years, at least.

I didn’t wait for the powers that beBut took myself on the road, Looking for somewhere else to stayTo hide away from the cold, I found me a mansion, streaked with sootWith its columns, black with grime, And thought, as I took a second look, It seemed to be lost in time!